Florida Adventure

I've been in Florida one week now. I'm going up to Liveoak Thursday to see my grandparents for a brief visit, and then it's back up to Georgia! I've missed Georgia a lot, which surprises me quite a bit. The quiet country highway roads, winding through cotton fields and through groves of ancient oaks where old family graveyards, housing tombstones made of weathered rock, lie in the shade, full of their secrets. Tiny, two-stop sign towns with shady old gas stations, perhaps a diner and an aged vintage consignment shop. The towns all looking more or less the same but all with their own personality: A large, grand brick courthouse in the middle, a statue in the town square bearing some Civil War Hero of long ago, and downtown nestled all around it. The sleepy, slow-paced feel of the deep south that makes you think you are the only person in the world as you drive down seldom-traveled roads and highways you've never heard of. Those beautiful groves of pecan trees, little ponds dug into patches of green farmland. Atlanta's fast-paced flow, the feel of the city that envelops you as you find yourself traveling down I-75 through downtown, watching as the cars weave in and out 6-lane roads. It's terrifying, but you learn your way if you travel it enough.

Georgia is sleepy, and not the same as where I grew up. Shopping has become something you plan, a trip you look forward to, because there's not that many places close by. Eating out is only once in a while when the nearest nice restaurant is over 30 minutes away. People know who you are, in fact, it's all about who you are. Who you know matters.

The cold winters, the hot hot summers, the falls where the leaves turn gold and red and yellow and the sky is a cloudless blue, the spring where cold rains drench the landscape and bring multicolored flowers to life all around you.

It's different to me, and I've come to love Georgia.

It's been a fun trip, though. I enjoyed the break, seeing my family after so long, my mom and Dad who I never get to see as often as I'd like. It hasn't been about Diabetes this week, or stressing out about school, or worrying about work being slower than I'd like it to be. It's been about seeing old friends, traveling to all of my old favorite places, spending quality time with people. Sleeping in my old bed, in my old room, now painted a light, neutral green instead of the bright, vibrant shade of blue that I'd made mom promise not to paint over - I don't mind though. I've missed petting my cat and greeting her at the door, her soft fur rubbing against my ankle and hearing her purr by my head as she sleeps on my pillow with me at night. It's a comfortable fit for me here, full of nostalgia and my childhood and old memories. I'll miss it when I go.

Never Take Insulin For Granted

I felt numb, and cold and scared. As if my entire world was crumbling to pieces over my head. Any security I might have lulled myself into believing this past year felt obsolete, gone. None. Nothing. Zero. I am a college student, I am Type 1 Diabetic, and I do not have insurance.

The shock is like re-discovering I have Diabetes. I don't know what to expect, and it's scary. Any freedom of mind and carefree lifestyle seems obsolete. It's hard to not have the security of knowing how I'm getting insulin or test strips each month. What if I get sent to the hospital? I'll never get an insulin pump now, not until I graduate college in 4 years and hopefully get a job with health benefits.

I'm sad. I'm so upset at this disease. I feel so many emotions, but most of all just a strong sense of hopelessness and anger at what Diabetes has done to me. I know this is a terrible way to feel, and I shouldn't pity myself. But I'm just so angry. I'm in college! I should have this nice, carefree College life, but Diabetes took that away from me. I'm forever resigned to being DD, I can't dive into the chip bowl at parties, and my meter is practically attached at the hip wherever I go. Now I have to worry about paying for medical supplies and care. I hate the worry and stress that this disease has put me through. My life would be so much simpler without it....

I found out I am not getting Medicaid renewed this year. As soon as the end of this month, and certainly by my 19th birthday this year, I will have no means of getting care except for out of pocket. Endocrinologist visits, blood testing that cannot be afforded, insulin, test strips, lancets and syringes are expensive, now self-paid necessities.

I was angry at first. I do not understand how people can cheat the system, get welfare, get food stamps even when they do not need them... and yet I am hard working, and trying to make something of my life, but have no access to health care simply because I found out one day that I had this disease. It's a helpless feeling. I am still angry. I feel trapped in this nightmare, and robbed of my life. My life wasn't supposed to be like this! I shouldn't even have this disease! Diabetes has stolen my freedom. I do not have a normal life as I wish I could. But most of all I am just plain scared. Scared my parents and I won't be able to afford the care that I need to stay alive and healthy. Scared one day I will have to choose insulin over education. (Scared I can't afford college too.) Scared to be a burden on my mother and father.

This week I just feel the overwhelming need to cry and cry. How will things work out and be okay now?

Especially now, I will never take having insulin for granted...

Would You Prefer Treatment A.) Get Pricked By Needle, Or Treatment B.) Get Pricked By Needle

Summer is finally here, and I've spent the last week being happily lazy and carefree as can be. My dorm was packed, I said my farewells to Hightower 119, and bid goodbye to all of my friends until the Fall.

And I have more time to blog!


I think this Summer will be great. I'm spending a good amount of time in both Georgia and Florida, and I can't wait until I can see my friends again. It will be nice to sit out by the pool and get tan, and not be scoffed at for my perfectly-conservative-by-Floridian-terms short shorts.

There's also some business to get down to once I am in Florida again. I will be seeing my endocrinologist, and I'm considering asking her about the insulin pump for the first time ever. I have spent my entire Diabetes career anti-pump but now I feel like I might be ready to take a leap of faith. Or maybe it's because I'm sick of feeling pressured by everyone into getting one, and they tell me how great and easy it will apparently make my life. I just don't see it quite yet. Maybe I lack vision. But I am willing to at least give the pump a try. I don't know if it will change my life greatly, and I don't know if it will change my life for better or worse. I don't ever know if I am going to get the pump. But I suppose I owe it to myself to try the available options of treatment and, while the pump is not a CGM (what I really want), maybe it will improve my treatment.

Will the pump be annoying? What about at princess or clown parties? As a Florida girl, will it affect swimming? Will it be annoying to have something attached to me? Will it hurt? My mind swims with worries, but also with curiosity. Either way, I'm still getting pricked by needles. Which I still loathe ( I hate how I have little light red pinpricks visible all over my skin), but maybe I'll loathe one less than the other. I guess I won't know until I try.

Happy Sunday...In April...Absolutely Could Not Think Of A Title

To say it's been forever since I've posted anything is an understatement! Finals and the last few weeks of school have just managed to consume all my time completely. However, Monday is my last final, and then I'll be free for the summer! Can't wait! I'm done with the bulk of my studying now, though, have gleefully removed the dozens of sticky notes from my textbooks, and am in the process of packing up all of my belongings. It feels like a repeat from last year and I can't believe my "first" (third) year of college is nearly over.

My life has been so busy, especially these past 3.5 months, I feel I've scarcely had a chance to breathe. My life has been one perpetual study session, and when I wasn't studying, I felt guilty that I wasn't studying. That, or I was running my business, balancing phone calls with class lectures and driving up to Atlanta on the weekends to go be a princess.

Diabetes has kind of taken the backburner during this time. I think I've hardly had time to think about it! It hasn't really played a particularly large part in my life. It's easy to get caught up in the daily grind - wake up, test my Blood Sugar, go to the dining hall for breakfast. I keep my school ID in my meter case out of convenience. Have a snack before lunch, eat, snack in the afternoon, dinner, and snack before bed. That's a lot of snacks, so thank goodness the 100-calorie (and ironically more low-carb than the sugar free) Klondike bars are usually buy one get one free. I'm kind of happy to report that nothing major has happened. I've had relatively few lows, and with the exception of the 347 last night (yeah... there was baking involved) my sugars have been kept relatively under control.

It feels so different from a year ago, when everything was so new and different to me. I used to carry around my little green JDRF cooler with everything inside - carb counting book, glucagon emergency kit, an entire box of syringes, test strips, lancets, log books, the works. Now I just carry my little meter case with Novolog attached. I don't bring my carb book as often, because I can guess carbs very well on my own now. I remember my first attempt at bolusing based on carb counting - one big, epic disaster in which I ended up giving myself random shots every 15 minutes when I decided to scarf down another large chocolate chip cookie. Yep, I've come far since then. Simple and discreet, I live as normal a life as possible as long as I have those two powerful, lifesaving tools by my side... at all times. Freedom? Maybe not, I think a little sadly. But as close to it as I feel I will ever get.

It's been over a year now - April 3rd was my "Diabetes Anniversary". One year with Diabetes, and life has changed, but I've settled down. Sometimes, I wonder how Diabetes will play into my future. Will it affect how many kids I can have? Will I ever have to choose between affording insulin over something else that I need? Will I ever get health insurance? Will there ever be a cure?

Time flies. I'm a different person than who I was a year ago. More mature (?) (I like to think - or maybe I just feel that possessing a credit card finally gives me "adult" rights). It just makes me wondering, where will I be in another year? Two, when I graduate Wesleyan (changed my mind again - staying two more years. I promise, guys.) Three? Four to five, when I finish grad school? I don't know. It's easy at first glance to think you know where you're going with your future, but then crazy things happen like you get Diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.

So I don't know. But I won't think about it too hard now, or I'll drive myself crazy. For now, I'll settle with a brief summer to-do list:

- Read a book (textbooks don't count)
- Use Rosetta Stone
- Run. At least once.
- SWIM. I haven't been in a pool for AGES.
- Play Sims. (lol. Did I just write that?)
- Get a tan.
- Wash my car. (The last time I washed it, I was in Florida..................a year ago................)
- BLOG MORE! I PROMISE!

I'd say that's about it for now.
So, Happy Sunday all!

I guess I'll attach some narcissistic pictures since I don't take very many of those out of costume these days. :)

Comfort Food

The weekend was wonderful. It was my first weekend off, and I took full advantage of it. The first thing I did: sleep in. What a sweet, blessed word. I went shopping for prom dresses with Joshua's sister Marleigh and her cousin Kelsey, took photos, went on a date out to dinner and to see The Hunger Games with Joshua Kuckuck, laughed so hard I cried, stayed up talking with the girls until 4 AM Saturday, and had a picnic Sunday with Joshua.

But I forgot to do something over the weekend, which was to buy snacks. I happened to be all out, and I'd found myself digging up old candy bars back from Halloween to shove into my purse and backpack just in case I happened to be low.

It made me aware of my vulnerability, all of a sudden.
With my meter, insulin and a snack at hand, I feel confident and in control of my life. I can handle Diabetes - it can't beat me.
But take away just one of those things, and suddenly, surviving Diabetes becomes part of an unwelcome game - one where I never know what to expect.
I found myself slightly afraid. 
I've always been okay, but I've had close calls. Mid-Spanish class lows, or just yesterday, when Joshua and I went on a wonderful date to Indian Springs. We ate Subway, took pictures and had a great hike through the woods, and I figured I'd be fine, but was a little worried because I'd still forgotten that damn snack. I drove all the way back to Forsyth, but when we stepped into the house I felt a slight shake of hand and tested to find that I was at 44. We'd been in the middle of nowhere. What would have happened if we'd waited just a few minutes longer, stayed another hour, unknowing? The consequences could have been disastrous.

Today in Spanish we had out exam, and I still lacked my snack. I hoped, hoped, hoped I wouldn't be low during the Exam but knew that the time my Spanish Class was at was a trouble time for me. Surely enough, as soon as class began I felt the all-too familiar tingle, the shakiness, the weakness come over me. But I was petrified. No Professor would allow a student to just leave the class during a test. I was Diabetic, I argued. Maybe I had an exception. But I hadn't filed any paperwork or anything, hadn't been responsible enough to remember to bring a snack when I should have. It was my fault. Any change I had was in my room, so I'd have to beg for money or ask to go all the way back there, then back to the vending machine, to get a snack. I would interrupt everyone testing in the room. I might get failed on my exam if I chose to leave. I felt trapped, and so I pushed the low down to the bottom of my conscious, as far as it would go, and finished my test, although my concentration eluded me and my my mind was met with fuzziness where Spanish grammar and vocabulary was meant to be.

That afternoon, the first thing I did after class, work and volunteering was go to the store and buy some snacks. Popcorn and granola bars have never filled me with such comfort, security and a feeling of blanketed safety before. The term "comfort food' has taken on a whole new meaning.

Taking Off My Medical ID Bracelet

There is a heart-shaped bracelet that always rests on my left wrist. On the back inscribed in tiny letters, it reads:

Lacy Ball

DM Type 1

Insulin Dep

It is a sentence for me. I don't mind wearing it, it's necessary - but the bracelet is a reminder, a chain placed on me by a disease known as Diabetes Mellitus Type 1.

I know Diabetes on a much more personal basis than just a name, though. There is so much more to a disease than just the name that labels it. The symptoms, the heavy-hearted worry, the finances, the physical, emotional, and psychological effects of it.

The way it alters your life.

I take off my Medical ID bracelet and stare at my empty wrist. Small indents from where the bracelet had rested still marked the area, but it was the first time that I had taken it off for months.

I was surprised about the feelings that arose from staring at the blank skin where metal, turned warm from my skin, had adorned it but a moment ago. The absence brought back memories - memories that aren't even long ago but feel as if they are remnants of a past life.

When I woke up in the hospital bed at 2AM on April 3rd, 2011, I woke up into a life entirely changed from my own. My world had suddenly expanded to twice its normal capacity, and with it came a flurry of new emotions and struggles and experiences that I never, in all of my childhood dreams or plans made on the cusp of adulthood, thought I'd encounter. I remember thinking the only good thing about getting Diagnosed was that I no longer had to pee 3 times an hour.

Since then, never once have I really looked back on what my life had been like before my diagnosis with Type 1 Diabetes.

It was,

That was my life then -

- This is my life now.

I've been so busy trying to just adjust and learn how to cope with this illness, looking back is an entirely different and foreign experience to me.

It makes me sad, even now, to think about my old life - like the only thing it ever was, was a dream.

I'll always mourn what I lost. Diabetes has had time to sink in now - I don't pity myself, and I don't burst into tears anymore. I take things one day at a time and don't over think things. I don't think about my next shot 3 hours from now, or how much the lancet hurts when the calluses on my fingertips are too tough for a lighter needle setting. I don't think about the discomfort of blood testing, or the Lantus when it stings me, or the bruises the Novolog leaves behind.

But sometimes I get glimpses of daydreams, fragments of both what my life used to be and what I now can only wish it would one day be again. I think of how carefree life would be without my illness. I think, with a wave of immense sadness at this very moment, how I used to go into a restaurant and order whatever I wanted without thinking twice, or take a bite - or two - or three, what did it matter? - of chocolate cake. How did I ever take that for granted? Why, in all of my prayers, had I neglected to thank God for letting me so much as eat a meal, carefree and healthy?
I remember sunny Summer days with chocolate chip cookies dough ice cream, and late night snacks. I remember all-you-can-eat buffets, ice cold soda, Steak n Shake milkshakes, and happy, lighthearted family dinners that didn't consist of begging waiters to let me have vegetables as a substitute for rice and arguing about this entree or that having too many carbs. I miss being able to not worry about skipping a meal and never getting low. I miss being able to wash a car in the hot sun and not worry about the shaky, heart-pounding feeling sneaking up on me. I miss sleeping without fear of not waking up every night, not just some of them. I miss blemish-less skin and unpricked fingertips.

In short, I miss a lot of things. What an experience it would be to eat some meal, just one meal, without the presence of a glucose meter or insulin pen and the worry...!

Lost in daydreams, dreams, hopes, memories, feelings - time all but stopped and faded away in those few moments.

That's what it was like when I took off my Medical ID bracelet.

But of course, those were daydreams only.

I clasp the bracelet back on my wrist and go on with my day.

Hola, Low, We Meet Again.

It is 10:52, and I've just checked my blood sugar. 113. I smile, happy that I've dosed my insulin right. I'm getting good at this, no?

Spanish class begins, and I sit alert in my seat. Everything is fine at first, as we watch videos and go over drills, preparing for our next test.

Then I feel a little bit dizzy. It is 11:32. My fingertips and toes and then my whole body get a slight tingle. I'm not low, am I? There's no way. Anyways, I can just sit it out. We get out in 18 short minutes and I'm sure I'll be just fine. I sit for a while, confident that I can beat out this low until lunchtime. Besides, if it gets really bad I have a snack right?

Right?

Oh. That's right.

Not right.

In my rush to get to class this morning (having woken up late - again) my mental checklist definitively did have "grab 2 snacks and put them in my backpack" on it. That's great, except I'd forgotten. No worries, I'd thought, getting to my research methods class. At any rate, I'd probably run high all throughout the morning up until lunch.

But apparently I'd been dreadful wrong. The low was getting worse now, becoming hard to ignore. I turned to Crystal who sat next to me, a little bit panicked at this sudden realization. "I'm low and I don't have any sugar," I told her, my voice full of worry. She checked to see if she had anything in her backpack but she didn't. We were watching videos now, and it would be hard to get the attention of Professor Smotherman without disrupting the class. I really didn't want to call attention to myself, or interrupt anything. Sure, it was a medical emergency, but that would be rude and embarrassing. Ugh. My logic.

So I tried once again to ignore the low, meeting each attempt with less and less success. I finally pulled out my meter just to test and see where I was at. The meter flashed back at me: 59. I didn't need a Dexcom to tell me that I was most certainly still falling. I could practically feel it with each and every passing second. I got dizzier, the room span, my breathing grew slow and measured as I tried to control the weakness seeping through my limbs.

This wasn't even the lowest I'd ever been, but I felt worse than I ever had in a very, very long time.
I gave one last effort at waiting it out until I knew that if I stayed in class any longer it might end with somebody sticking a glucagon injection in me. Those needles looked plain nasty, but I figure if I'm ever low enough to need one, I probably won't care.

Note to readers: In case of a severe low, someone please stick me with this.

But getting a glucagon injection wasn't exactly at the top of my to-do list today, or ever. So I gathered up my belongings and quietly walked to the door, pausing by Professor Smotherman, hoping she'd turn around. When she did, I hurriedly said, whispering, "I have low blood sugar. I need to leave early and get something to eat." It wasn't as bad as I pictured it, actually. "Go," she told me, and I made quick work of leaving the room. I did my best to walk in a straight line. They say being low is similar to being intoxicated. I don't know if this is true, as I've only felt one of those sensations before, but I'd be hard-pressed to say that any alcohol drinker has ever felt as bad as I did in that moment. It felt like gravity was weighing down twice its normal pressure on me. My body shook, sweat dripped down my forehead and back. I had to grab hold of the rail to make sure I didn't fall down the stairs. Someone probably should have gone with me, just to make sure I made it to the cafeteria okay, but I managed myself. It was the longest walk of my life. 

I finally made it to the lunchroom, a panting, sweaty mess. I found an empty table, incapable of words at the moment, threw down my stuff, and walked as quickly as I could. Get.food. That was the only thing I was sure I could do at the moment, though making it to the lunch line and back to the table still seemed a pretty daunting task. Once I did, I sat down and scarfed it down as quick as I could. In the newfound heat of the coming early spring, sweat continued to bead down my back. I felt gross and sticky. I felt groggy. My tongue was numb. 

I wanted to cry, full of renewed bitterness towards what this disease had done to me. No person should ever have to feel this way. Not me, not my friends, not my family, not strangers, not other PWOD's, not my enemies. 

But I was okay. It was a close call, but I'd averted the emergency before it was too late. Yes, it was miserable, and yes, it was inconvenient, and I was upset that Diabetes had won out and made me leave Spanish class early. I hated being a shaky, sweaty mess. But I guess at the end of the day what's important is that I'm still here. Diabetes could have taken my life from the get-go, back when I was diagnosed. It very nearly did. But it didn't. And I learned a lesson. Next time, don't forget snacks. Tomorrow, give myself less Novolog for breakfast. If I'm low, don't be afraid to interrupt and leave class. 

It's a learning experience, slowly but surely. With Diabetes, more so than anything else I've ever experienced, knowledge is power. I can't always prevent lows, but next time, what I can do is be more prepared. And that's exactly where I've got the upper hand on Diabetes - so being more prepared is just what I plan to do.